Soapbox

It’s the word we allknow and hate:
Covid 19.
The pandemic virus.
(or the government hoax to take away our freedoms,depending on how fucking stupid you are.)

It’s why we have a whole box of test kits in the closet. And Sunday morning, this happened.

It didn’t just read positive- it almost yelled it. You’re supposed to wait 15 minutes after you insert that swab to read it but within 15 seconds that was saying “Oh HELL yes”.
And the world got a lot more complicated.

I got sick overnight on Thursday so first thing Friday I tested, and it was negative.
Whew
So I had a fever and coughing and head congestion and felt crappy- but it wasn’t covid. So it’s all ok.
Called in to take some time off work, assembled the usual equipment: tissue box, tylenol, ice water. I went through the McDonalds drive through (I don’t have covid, remember?) and got some french fries, because I thought the hot saltiness would taste good. It usually does when I have a cold.

It didn’t.
My fever spiked so I hit it with round-the-clock tylenol and woke at dawn drenched in sweat. Good! Getting better!
Nope.

Saturday was miserable. Ted was out of town. Steve was out of town. (Turned out to be a good thing but I had no one to take care of me). Katie dropped by (I stayed away from her) with some emergency supplies: Coke, popsicles, Lipton noodle soup and a bag of M&M’s. Perfect! Thanks!

And then I couldn’t eat them.
I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach, and when I stood up and walked around I got vaguely nauseous. My fever was trying to go up so I needed to take tylenol, but didn’t want to put it alone in a stomach that unhappy. At 10 AM I nibbled one cracker and took tylenol, then lay back in frontof the TV in a miserable haze. At 2 it was time for more, so I had part of a raspberry popsicle and tylenol.

By 4 PM I was feverish and lying on the boathroom floor (because for some reason that eased my gastric discomfort a lot) with a cup of ice chips in front of me. Poor Tucker really wanted to go for a walk but I knew I couldn’t even manage one of his geriatric dog walks. It was a nice day so I put him outside and went back to my floor, where I dozed for an hour.

It was a miserable night. I found a position that was reasonably comfortable for my stomach and fell asleep, only to wake because it was not comfortable for my hip or back. I gave up on tylenol and let my fever do its thing because ice chips was all I could take.

Sunday morning I figured I should re-test, because this thing was a bear, whatever it was.
And then things got more complicated.

I texted Katie, because Ted and I had dinner with her and Amber on Wednesday. I texted Ted and Steve.

I called my mom, who had to go to the front desk and tell them she may have been exposed when I took her to the chiropractor on Wednesday. They gave her a test and an N-95 mask and told her she’s got to stay in her apartment for 10 days.
“Can you take another test?” she begged me. “Maybe that result was wrong. I’m gonna go crazy stuck in my apartment for 10 days!”

“False negatives are a lot more common than false positives” I told her. “And anyway, it’s 10 days from exposure, and you’re already 4 days in. Just 6 more days.”
Then I contacted siblings and asked them to please call mom frequently over the next 6 days to relieve her boredom.
I called work and told them not to expect me soon and said “Aren’t you glad I still wear a mask at work?” I couldn’t resist.

By Sunday my respiratory symptoms were getting a little better. I could tell I was a little feverish but it wasn’t the 102+ I had been fighting before. Much less coughing, more drippy nose. But my stomach was still upset. After my phone calls I set to work: stripped the linens off the bed and blankets off the futon in the front room, collected any towels I had used and put them all in the laundry. Wearing a mask and gloves I set about sanitizing every door knob, faucet and handle. I sprayed soft surfaces like the futon couch and throw pillow with a long shot of lysol.

All along nausea had been lurking in the background. I felt that if I was up and moving around too much I might throw up. After about 15 minutes of work I was proved right- though I had injested so little in the previous 8 hours that at least there wasn’t much to throw up.

Long before Ted got home I was ensconced in the basement family room with a box of tissues and a glass of ice chips. He and went to the store and got me some Kevita, which is a brand of kombucha which I thought it might settle things down. He also got cherry jello.

The Kevita really did the trick. I took one tiny sip… then another. Soon I had half the bottle down. It was amazing what just getting rid of that stomach ache did. I mean I was still sick: low-grade fever, nose dripping like a faucet and sneezing up a storm. But I had some jello before I turned out the light and it tasted and felt good going down.
Progress!

So now it’s Monday morning. I would go to the doctor today to see about getting some antivirals– but. It’s Memorial Day. The timing is just not working out.

On Friday and Saturday, when I felt like death warmed over, I thought I was covid negative. No use in the drugs. Sunday, when I found out I was positive, everyone was out of town and I was too exhausted and sick to call around myself and look into where and how to get it.
So I have to either wait til Tuesday (and you’re supposed to start them within 5 days of onset of symptoms) or go to the ER. Which will be filled with other people who would go to their doctor, but it’s Memorial Day and their doctor is playing golf. No thinks: not unless it’s an actual emergency.

I feel… better. Still sick. I went upstairs to let the dog out at 5 AM and got light-headed at the top of the stairs. I had a cup of tea and a piece of jelly toast and it is sitting fine but I have no wish to eat more. I have an ear ache. I really want a shower. But so far today is better than yesterday, which overall was better than the day before. I’ll take it.

Time to call my mom .

Tuesday check-in.

Tucker and I walked all the way to his pal Patch’s house this morning at about 5 AM. We were both glad to get out, as no one has walked him since I was last able to. I’ve still got what feels like a nasty head cold but no fever and almost no cough. I do feel winded when I walk up the steps fast. Hopefully that will change or I’ll never make it through a shift unloading 40 lb cartons of flour and beans.

You might think that a week with Covid in isolation and nothing to do would be a great time to catch up on the library books you have laying around. You’d be wrong. Today I actually read for about 15 minutes. That was all I could muster- and it’s a good book. It’s so much less effort to veg out in front of the TV and re-runs of Murder She Wrote.
I’ve decided not to go in for the anti-viral treatment. Seems superfluous, and anyway, I don’t know how much they cost. Ted keeps saying “We have insurance!” but I have ZERO faith that this shit we bought after he lost his employee coverage will cover anything until it actually does.

Based on my nice walk this morning and a hearty lunch, I’m thinking I may take another test tomorrow. I have no idea how “Better” I need to feel to test negative but I’m ready to find out.

Wednesday.
First coffee in a week. Turned out my mouth wanted it more than my stomach did, but no real problems. I briefly started coughing a lot last night but it didn’t last. Definitely less head congestion. Progress continues but is less dramatic.

I’ve been thinking about work and I know that even if I am negative now I am not yet up for a shift. I could probably work a few hours as a cashier, but the constant up-and-down of stocking groceries would have my head spinning and me grabbing shelves to keep from falling over. I feel bad about the crew putting out all that stock without me day after day, but I would be no help to them yet.

It’s also disorienting to be down here in the basement with nothing to do for so long. I keep checking the clock to see if it’s time to get ready for work, or time to think about starting supper, or time to get some weeding done before it gets too hot… but I do not need to or may not do those things yet. So I watch more TV or scratch at a crossword puzzle or read my computer for a while more.
Is this what being elderly will be like? Yikes!

Wednesday evening:
Covid test was positive today. Not susper surprised but I was kind of hoping.
More time to regain strength. Also more time stuck in the basement. I know Tucker frets without me, but we’re lucky to have a place this easy to isolate and still be functional.

Friday evening:
Another positive test this morning. Conflicting reports from MIT med and the CDC but bother say that if you are vaccinated, you don’t have to wait for a negative test. One says 5 days post onset + no fever for 24 hours, the other recommends 10 days. How are we to know?
Given that I still have a bit of a lingering cough and some swollen glands, I’m opting for the 10 days.

I read an entire library book today.